The Sixth American Dream (USA 666) (left) and Eat/Die were both created before LOVE went viral. The words that appear in these paintings relate to Indiana's life story: "Hug" was his mother's word for affection and "eat" was the last word she said before she died.

In 1968, Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art bought a painting called LOVE — and made artist Robert Indiana famous. It became a sculpture, a stamp, greeting cards.

And it obliterated the rest of Indiana's career. The artist has been pretty much ignored by the art world for the past few decades. Not sneered at, he says – just ignored.

"I wasn't aware that I was disrespected," he says, in a raspy baritone. "I've only been neglected."

Indiana stands in front of the familiar image: four red-block letters, two over two, the O tilted, the background in squares of deep blue and green. When MOMA director Alfred Barr acquired the work, the 40-year-old painter became an art-world star.

"It took off after that," he says. "LOVE bit me. It was a marvelous idea, but it was also a terrible mistake. It became too popular; it became too popular. And there are people who don't like popularity. It's much better to be exclusive and remote. That's why I'm on an island off the coast of Maine, you see."

Indiana lives now in what he calls a kind of exile. But in the mid-1950s, he had an appetite for the hum and buzz of the New York art scene. He eventually even changed his name from Clark, so he'd stand out.

"There were a number of artists named Clark," he recalls. "And if you look in the telephone book, there are thousands and thousands of people named Clark."

But not so many Indianas — a name he took in honor of his home state.

You could say that the artist is a bit of a sentimentalist: He mines his autobiography for everything he does, even LOVE. The inspiration came from his childhood as a Christian Scientist, when the phrase "God is love" was prominent. Indiana inverted the idea to suggest that "Love is God."

Even the colors in that famous painting come from the artist's childhood.

"The red and the green came from the Philips 66 gas sign," says Martin Krause, a curator at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. "His father worked for Philips 66, and he remembered that combination; it fixed itself in his mind. And when he began making the LOVE paintings in 1965, his father died. So the red and green of the [MOMA] LOVE painting, silhouetted against the blue Indiana sky, is in memoriam of his father."

At the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, two images of Indiana's parents open a show called "Robert Indiana: Beyond Love" – the first career-spanning retrospective for the artist. Unlike his usually bright, colorful paintings, these are in grays, with his parents standing in front of a Model T Ford. In one image, the couple is dressed; in the other, Indiana's mother reveals her breasts.

"What we wanted the show to do was suggest the range and breadth of Bob Indiana's work," says curator Barbara Haskell, who organized the show as a kind of corrective.

Indiana is often lumped in with Pop artists, with whom he was friendly. But he describes his stenciled letters and numbers — placed in sharp angles against bright colors — as "hard edge," not Pop. The three- and four-letter words convey messages. "Eat," "die," and "hug" appear frequently.

"'Hug' is my mother's word for affection," he says. "'Eat' was the last word that she said before she died. Everything is relating to my own life."

There's also a series of work quoting from American writers, another referencing the civil rights movement, and one inspired by Mae West; it's called The Sweet Mystery.

"I was great fan of Mae West," Indiana says. "And she was a mystery; everybody wondered, is she a woman, or is she a man?" He chuckles.

The mystery of the American Dream is a theme throughout Indiana's work, as well — and he says it, too, is elusive.

"The American Dream, that's our folly," he says with a rueful laugh. "That's our folly. Look where we're ending up."

These days, Indiana is working on a photographic autobiography, documenting his life's journey from Indiana to New York to the coast of Maine. Meanwhile the Whitney retrospective moves to San Antonio, Texas, in February, and a show of his prints opens in Indianapolis next month. Suddenly, more than LOVE is in the air — and Robert Indiana isn't being quite so neglected by the art world anymore.

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RACHEL MARTIN, HOST:

In the mid-1960s, New York City's Museum of Modern Art commissioned Robert Indiana's "LOVE" painting. The now familiar L and tilted O above the V and E, it made the artist famous. It became a sculpture, a stamp, greeting cards and it obliterated the rest of his career. Now, the first-ever major retrospective of Robert Indiana's work is beginning a national tour at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York.

KAREN MICHEL, BYLINE: Robert Indiana has been pretty much ignored by the art world for the past few decades.

ROBERT INDIANA: You see, I wasn't aware that I was disrespected. I've only been neglected.

MICHEL: And, for Indiana, love has got everything to do with it; with his populist success and with his fall from art world grace - a grace that was his when the director of Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art took notice.

INDIANA: There's the most important painting acquired by Alfred Barr at Museum of Modern Art, which sort of set my whole career. It took off after that.

MICHEL: Indiana stands in front of the familiar image: four red block letters, two over two, the O tilted, and the background in squares of deep blue and green. When MOMA purchased the work in 1968, the 40-year-old painter became an art world star.

INDIANA: "LOVE" bit me. It, you know, was a marvelous idea but it was also a terrible mistake. It became too popular. It became too popular. And there are people who don't like popularity. And it's much better to be exclusive and remote. That's why I'm on an island off the coast of Maine, you see.

MICHEL: Indiana lives in what he calls a kind of exile. But in the mid-1950s he was ready for New York. He eventually even changed his name from Clark, so he'd stand out.

INDIANA: There were a number of artists named Clark. And if you look in the telephone book, there are thousands and thousands of people named Clark.

MICHEL: But not so many Indianas, the name he took in honor of his home state. You could say that Robert Indiana is a bit of a sentimentalist. He mines his autobiography for everything he does, even "LOVE." That's from his childhood as a Christian Scientist, where the phrase: God is love is prominent; a phrase Indiana inverted to: Love is God. Even the colors in that famous painting come from the artist's childhood.

MARTIN KRAUSE: The red and the green from Philips 66 gas sign. His father worked for Philips 66.

MICHEL: Martin Krause is a curator at the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

KRAUSE: And he remembered that sort of combination, it fixed itself in his mind. And when began making the "LOVE" paintings in 1965, his father died. So the red and green of the "LOVE" painting silhouetted against the blue Indiana sky is in memoriam as his father.

MICHEL: At the Whitney, two images of Indiana's parents opened the show. Unlike his other, brightly colored paintings, these are in grays. His parents stand in front of a Ford Model T. In one image, the couple is dressed. In the other, Indiana's mother reveals her breasts.

Curator Barbara Haskell says the Whitney's retrospective is intended to be a corrective.

BARBARA HASKELL: What wanted this show to do was suggest range and the breadth of Bobby Indiana's work, that extends beyond this one image, "LOVE," which is so known to people around world but has obscured the rest of his work.

MICHEL: Going through the galleries, even the artist was surprised.

INDIANA: Oh, gracious - just absolutely marvelous show.

MICHEL: Indiana is often lumped in with Pop artists, with whom he was friendly. But he describes his stenciled letters and numbers, placed in sharp angles against bright colors as hard edge, not Pop where the three and four letter words convey messages. The words eat, die, and hug appear frequently in Indiana's work.

INDIANA: Hug is my mother's word for affection. Eat was the last word that she said before she died - everything is relating to my own life.

MICHEL: There's also a series of work quoting from American writers, another referencing the civil rights movement, and one of Mae West, called "The Sweet Mystery."

INDIANA: I was great fan of Mae West, and she was a mystery. Everybody wondered is she a woman or is she a man?

(LAUGHTER)

MICHEL: The mystery of the American dream runs throughout Indiana's work. And he says it, too, is elusive.

MICHEL: Now, Indiana is working on a photographic biography, documenting his life's journey from Indiana to New York to the coast of Maine. His retrospective opens in San Antonio in February. A show of his prints also opens in Indianapolis and Robert Indiana won't be quite so neglected by the art world anymore.